


one way or another (i'm gonna get you)

by Junia



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Jealousy, Mild Smut, Post-Canon, Speculation, for the third time for them, lots of bickering, this will be just a series of jude trying to punish cardan but kissing him instead, twk spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junia/pseuds/Junia
Summary: Her movements are quick and smooth. She presses one hand against his mouth, the other holding the knife against his throat. Cardan’s eyes fly open. He struggles; she feels his weight push back against her, his hands move under the sheet, but he relaxes when the blade of the knife presses even closer against the delicate skin of his neck. Or is it the recognition that calms down the momentary fight reflex?“Surprise, Cardan,” Jude whispers, her heart beating wildly. “Your worst night terror just came back to haunt you.”Or, the one in which Jude finds a surprisingly easy way back to Elfhame, and the first stop is Cardan's room, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

Despite her best efforts, Jude finds herself thinking back to Cardan‘s last words to her time and time again.

_I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown. Until then, let her not step one foot in Fairie or forfeit her life._

They‘re like driblets of poison in her system, making her weak and sick every time the memory of that scene at the sea flickers before her eyes. She likes to think it‘s like myrothinsm. That thinking about the wind that blew across her face as he tore everything she had worked for away from her, will make her strong in the long run, even if it makes it hard to breathe now. Someday she‘ll be immune to it; immune to Cardan.

Or it‘s wishful thinking, and all it does is drive her even more insane.

Jude is trying to get accustomed to this world for the time being, _really_ , but it‘s not easy at all. Mortals are so difficult to deal with. When they see her, most of them turn away or shoot angry scowls in her direction. Vivi said it‘s because Jude never smiles and her cold expression scares people. Jude doesn‘t have the strength to care.

And Elfhame… it‘s been months and she hasn‘t heard anything. Not from Taryn. Not from Madoc. And certainly not from Cardan.

The two or three times Vivi had visited the rest of the family on the other side, she said Taryn sent her greetings, but Jude suspects that's merely a polite lie her sister tells her. The same thing she does when she doesn't talk about her visits more than necessary. She doesn't want to upset Jude more than she already is.

Taryn doesn't send any greetings, nor does she visit them. It‘s like she wasn‘t just exiled from Fairie but also completely erased from their entire lives.

She thought about what Vivi told her, of course. That she should try to work with Madoc to overthrow Cardan, but after hours and hours of going over it in her head, she came to the conclusion that it wouldn‘t work — at least not to her liking. Allying with Madoc would mean making Oak the king if they somehow succeeded. And that‘s a big if. But Oak as the king, thus Madoc as the actual ruler of Elfhame is still not what she wants, still not what‘s best for everyone. It‘s bloodshed and wars and death. It‘s not a solution.

And Jude wants revenge on only one person. Dragging everyone else into it would make her as bad as Madoc, even if the promise of vengeance tastes as sweet as honey in her mouth.

_Oh, revenge…_

Yet, aside from Madoc, there‘s no other option. She can‘t step into Fairie unless she wishes to lose her life. There are no other allies to consider. Jude is on her own.

Oak tugs on her hand and she jerks back into the present which is Target and Halloween shopping. A stupid holiday the mortals use to dress up in lousy costumes and go from door to door to collect sweets. The faint memory of doing that with Taryn and Vivianne seems like a lifetime ago.

Stupid.

„Look! A Batman costume,“ Oak exclaims and runs over to the aisle with countless colorful costumes. Pirates. Angels. Witches. And batman — Oak‘s latest pop culture obsession.

Jude tries to give him an encouraging smile while he‘s trying on some of them, growing more excited from costume to costume.

„Or here,“ he says and grabs something at the far end of the hanging rail. „You said I would be king one day!“

Jude blinks. He‘s put on a very inaccurate costume of a king. A plastic crown is sitting on his mussed, brown hair.

„I command you to kneel!“ His voice deepens theatrically, trying to mimic an angry adult, but he has to laugh and giggle at the end.

Her throat feels dry as she croaks out, „I prefer the Batman one.“

Oak forgets about his crown and his royal cloak very fast, but Jude‘s eyes are stuck on it. She takes the plastic crown into her hands and stares at it.

It reminds her of the night she made Cardan king. The sense of betrayal that had flashed in his eyes before his glare turned into a lethal grin that promised revenge for what she had done. He did get that, after all.

Now she‘s here in the mortal world playing around with a plastic crown. For a stupid, pathetic moment she places it on her own head and glances into the mirror.

The exiled Queen of Elfhame. The queen of myrth. The queen of nothing.

That night she agreed to marry Cardan, Jude became the crown only to lose everything a few hours later.

She blinks.

Something about the thought triggers a muscle in her brain, a nervous itch.

 _I became the crown that day only to lose everything hours later_ , she thinks again, staring at the mirror.

There it is again. That Itch.

„I became the crown that day only to lose everything a few hours later,“ she murmurs to herself, a thin layer under her skin buzzing with awareness. „I became the crown —“

_The crown._

_I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown._

Jude staggers back from the mirror, mouth parted as the wheels in her mind spin and churn.

_It cannot be._

„Jude?“ Oak‘s young voice pierces through her whirling thoughts. „Are you okay?“

Her eyes snap down to him, and she manages a nod. „Yes. Have you picked your costume? I remembered something I have to do at home.“

They pay for his Batman costume and take the subway to Vivi‘s apartment. All the while Jude feels like she‘s wading through a mist, or that she's sleeping and this is a crazy dream.

It probably _is_ a crazy dream. That’s it. She’s finally gone crazy after months of exile in this bleak, mortal world. Because it cannot be true that the answer to all her problems is that simple. To pardon herself.

When she married Cardan, she became the queen and thus the crown — even if no one in Elfhame knows about that but him. And he said she will only be allowed to return when the crown pardons her. Jude thought that meant something as good as never. She thought Cardan would let her wait forever. Perhaps someday when she was already six feet underground, he would let out a low chuckle and finally pardon Jude Duarte. Or he would have long forgotten about her by then. Probably the latter.

But this realization, that she is the crown, changes everything. If Cardan’s verdict is meant to be taken literally then she should be able to pardon herself.

Heaven above, she’s gone mad.

Her heart is still racing when she slides the key into the lock of the apartment and lets them inside. Vivi isn’t home. She has a job at the coffee shop around the corner. It’s not for money, but rather a distraction for her with Heather still absent. Jude didn’t bother to look for one as well, not when she still believed all of this was temporary.

Maybe she wasn’t so wrong after all.

Oak runs into his room to try on his costume again and Jude uses the moment of free time to go into the bathroom and clear her head. She splashes her face with water. It helps, not much, but a little. The girl staring back at her in the mirror is pale and thin. She figured she would gain back her weight that she’d lost in her captivity under the sea, but she didn’t. Nowadays Jude has to force herself to eat. The muscles she had built over the last year have mostly faded too. There is a gym a few blocks away. Vivi goes there, and she tried to convince Jude to come along too, but she never mustered up the strength to go. Instead, she looked at a few fighting and sparring classes. However, nothing came close to what she was learning in Fairie, or what she would need for her revenge. So she stuck to her sword plays with Oak and a series of specific body workouts.

Yes. The last few months were horrible. Jude did not get accustomed to the mortal world, nor did she start to love it. If anything she hated it even more than before. If it's the banishment, the betrayal, the absence of her family, or the absence of _him_ that makes her feel this way, she doesn’t know. Probably a combination of all.

But now… now she starts to feel a spark of hope flaming up in her. It’s the hope of a fool but hope nonetheless.

Jude stares into the mirror and says, “I am the High Queen of Elfhame. I am the crown, and hereby I pardon you, Jude Duarte, from all your crimes and your exile to the mortal world.”

Nothing happens. She doesn’t feel any different, so she repeats it three or four more times for safety’s sake. It feels foolish to utter these words to herself alone in the bathroom. Jude feels like a child begging Santa Claus for presents. And yet the hope inside her chest starts blooming and crackling with the wonderful, sweet promise of payback.

-

Jude summons her courage and approaches Vivi the next morning after having slept a night over it. If she's honest, she wanted to see if she would wake up and realize this discovery is nothing but utter bullcrap. But she’s here, clear minded. It wasn't a dream. It's a real chance now.

Her sister is in the kitchen, smiling at her phone while the pan on the stove is sizzling with oil.

“I need you to do something for me,” Jude says.

Vivi looks up, brows raising on her head. “Sure. What is it?”

“Fly me to Fairie.”

The reaction on her face is as expected. Her cat eyes widening, brows furrowing, the phone landing on the counter.

“Jude…”

“I’m not crazy. Or suicidal,” she blurts out, stepping closer. “Just hear me out.”

Vivi doesn’t look pleased, but she does. She stands there and listens as Jude tells her about her discovery she made yesterday. What it could mean. And that she has to go to Fairie to be sure. When she’s done her sister crosses her arms. It's not confidence that tugs on her tight-lipped frown.

“Are you one hundred percent sure that he used those exact words?”

“Yes.”

“He said _crown_ and not _my crown_ or _I, the High King_ or something like that?”

Jude asked herself this exact question the whole night. After she had gone to bed, she went over everything again, and it didn't take long for doubts to crawl into her mind like pesky bed bugs. She turned and twisted and remembered that scene at the beach over and over again. And in the end, she was sure that those were his exact words.

She would never forget them.

“He said crown,” she affirms with a nod.

Vivi lets out a sigh and shrugs. “I mean I wouldn’t put it past Cardan. He’s always liked to… play. But you do realize that you could die if you’re wrong about this?”

Also something she mused about. She could die upon crossing the worlds, yes. Or they would arrest her to kill her later. Jude isn’t sure how exactly a breach of exile would be handled.

“We’ll test it out and if I’m wrong, we’ll leave immediately,” she says instead of a normal yes. It sounds less dangerous than I’m ready to risk my life over a mad theory. It’s more likely to get her sister to agree.

She's right. Finally, she sees Vivi give in.

“Fine, okay.” She shakes her head as if she doesn’t quite believe she’s agreeing to this. “You’re smart, sis. I really hope you’re right.”

-

They set out not even an hour later while Oak is still in school. Vivi summons her flying horse, and then they’re in the air, and Jude’s veins, her blood, her heart — everything is thrumming with anticipation.

All of it happened so fast, she didn’t really have time to think about what she would do if her theory proves to be right. She just put on a dark green cloak, that would be able to hide part of her face, and tucked her knives and daggers into all the right places before they left. The weight of them felt so good in her hands. And Jude still avoids thinking about it on their way to Fairie. What she might or might not do if this work doesn’t matter, only now is important.

She does wonder if Cardan will know. If he will feel her presence now that he has this connection to the land.

And then it’s too late to think about _what if_ s and _maybes_ because Jude sees the familiar shapes and lands of Elfhame come into view. They land at the edge of Milkwood, that is between their old home — Madoc’s estate — and the palace.

They wait with thundering hearts.

Nothing happens.

“Maybe I have to touch the ground,” Jude murmurs, and carefully jumps off the horse, landing on soil and grass. A raven crows in the distance, but that’s all they hear. After another minute of sickening anticipation, Jude turns to Vivi and lets out an incredulous laugh.

“No way! You were right!” Vivi hops down to give her a tight hug. “You could’ve come back all along,” she murmurs into her shoulder before Jude pulls away.

All these months she could’ve come back… she pushes that thought away, savors the anger she feels quiver inside her for later, and instead delights on the joy she feels right now. Glee and delight are so feather light compared to the weight of hurt, fury, and betrayal she felt over the last half of the year. So light she feels like the wind might carry her away at any given moment.

“I can’t believe it myself,” she murmurs, her smile fading for some reason.

Vivi grins and glances around. “So what now? Do you want to say hello to Taryn?”

“No,” she says quickly, her body stiffening. “I don’t want anybody to know about it for now. Can you not tell them, please?”

Vivi nods as if she already expected this answer. “Alright. Do you want me to take us home then?”

Home. Jude discovered that there’s no such thing as a home for her a long time ago. The closest thing she had to that was… — Shaking her head, she says, “No. I have to see someone first.”

Vivi raises a brow. She knows who and doesn't look too happy about it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

A beat, then her sister says, “Please don’t let me wake up tomorrow to the news that the High King has been murdered.”

Jude’s lips curl into a smirk. “I won’t let him get away that easy.” Her own gesture reminds herself so much of Cardan that she quickly smoothes it out into, what she hopes to be, a reassuring smile. “I won’t do anything rash, Vivi. I promise.”

“I hope so for you. Revenge is much better when you take your time with it." For a brief moment, a feral grin flashes across her face. The ferocity in it so similar to her father's, and yet in such different ways. Maybe to her mother's. "I have to head back now," she says then. "I have a shift at two.”

“Go,” Jude says. “I will call you when I’m done here.”

Vivi nods and gives her another hug. Then she flies off.

When the horse and her sister are out of sight, Jude looks at her surroundings. It still feels like a dream. Or a trap. Like the moment she leaves this forest, something or someone will jump her and say that this is all a big joke again. But nobody comes, even hours later. Nobody finds her.

-

It‘s nearly dawn when Jude finally emerges from the shadows. Up until now, she has waited in the depths of the forest for the night to come, for the fae to finish their activities and go back to sleep. She doesn't want to be seen by anyone.

The palace looks the same as when she last saw it.

And the hill she has to climb yet again, too. Entering through the gates isn’t an option. Jude doesn’t know what was told about the High King’s seneschal after her departure, but she’s sure she won’t be welcomed in with open arms. Which is not what she wants either way. They’d wake the king to inform him of her arrival, and she certainly doesn’t want that.

So hill it is.

IThis time it's because she’s not doing it after a month of hunger and captivity. Although Jude is still panting when she finally reaches the window, her muscles burning at being used so heavily again. After a few failed attempts, she manages to pick the frames and wiggles inside, landing in the same dark room as last time. Still not used.

It’s ridiculous how easy it is to slip into the hallway that leads to the royal chambers. No guards standing in front of Cardan’s room. It’s like he wants to be murdered in his sleep. Jude absently wonders whether the court of shadows still operates in the palace. Maybe not the guards, but the Roach or the Bomb are keeping their eye on him. Would they even listen to her after all this time?

She feels her palms grow sweaty as she slips into his room, quiet as a shadow. It’s dark, the only source of light the moonlight shining through the arched window, but it’s enough to let her recognize the outlines of a sleeping body on the bed.

He’s alone. A small sigh of relief escapes her. She didn't allow herself to imagine what she would do if he had visitors here, one or two other Fae in his bed. She's glad she doesn't have to find out the answer to that question either.

Jude creeps to his bed, and, despite everything, her heart still clenches at the sight of him. There is no forced smirk on his face while he’s sleeping, no extravagant expressions to hide what’s underneath, and not a mouth full of lies. He almost looks good here.

Taking a deep breath, she slips out her knife.

 _Kill him now_ , her own voice whispers in her head. _No one would ever know who did it. Everyone still thinks you are banished. It would be so, so easy._

But that wouldn’t solve anything. They would seek out Oak, and she already decided that she wouldn’t risk that. Besides, she was telling the truth when she promised Vivi. Death would be too easy on him.

So if she was honest with herself, Jude would realize she doesn't know what she's doing here with no plan and no purpose. Denial is a powerful thing, though.

Her movements are quick and smooth. She presses one hand against his mouth, the other holding the knife against his throat. Cardan’s eyes fly open. He struggles; she feels his weight push back against her, his hands move under the sheet, but he relaxes when the blade of the knife presses even closer against the delicate skin of his neck. Or is it the recognition that calms down the momentary fight reflex?

“Surprise, Cardan,” Jude whispers, her heart beating wildly. “Your worst night terror just came back to haunt you.”

He blinks a few times, then he makes a muffled sound against her hand and she realizes he wants to say something. Ever so slowly she lifts it off his mouth. The knife remains where it is.

“Jude,” Cardan says.

Her name out of his mouth shouldn’t trigger so many damned emotions and yet she feels her blood pulse at the rush of memories that hit her; every time he said her name, every time he breathed and groaned and spat it. Jude feels her chin quiver, so she bites down on her teeth.

“You figured it out," he says.

Her grip on the knife tightens and she huffs out a furious breath. She didn’t want to think about it earlier: the possibility that Cardan hadn’t just been a fool who hadn’t thought of his exact wording, but that it had been his intention all along. It would mean there is actually something in him, after all. Something good, and that is simply not true. No.

“Give me one good reason not to slit your throat right now,” she hisses.

“You are here, are you not?” His lips curl into a gloating smile. “You will not murder me, Jude,” he says then.

Jude should have known threatening him with a knife won’t do the trick. Threatening to throw away every bottle of wine in his court would probably be more useful.

She glares at him. “You don’t know what I will or will not do.”

“Oh, come now,” his hands fall to her waist, tugging her closer to him, eliciting a disgruntled squeak from her. Yet again his chest is bare. “With me dead, you would be forced to crown Oak, and I know for a fact you would rather let me live, instead of condemning all of Elfhame. You are not that evil.”

Jude hates that he is right. “That doesn’t mean I can’t still hurt you,” she says, and before he has any time to muse about the meaning of it, she kicks her knee right into his groin. How helpful he was when he tugged her further into his bed.

Cardan lets out a groan, his eyes rolling back as he clasps his hands over his most special parts. “You —”

“No, you don’t get to talk,” she cuts him off, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look into her eyes. “You may have worded your exile like that on intention, but that doesn’t make it any better, you prick. For months I was sitting in the mortal world, not knowing what to do with myself. For months I heard no word from my sister or my father. You could have warned me somehow, written me a damn letter, but instead, you chose to humiliate me in front of everyone —”

In her rage, she doesn’t notice his arm sneaking around her. Suddenly he has flipped them over. Jude lets out a sharp gasp, remembering her knife and pointing it at his throat.

“Now listen here, sweet Jude,” Cardan says, his long index finger tracing over the blade of the knife, “I am being watched like a hawk by everyone around here. Do you honestly believe it would have not raised any suspicion if I wrote a letter to my dear seneschal that I, oh, banished five months ago?”

For a moment she's too perplexed at the finesse with which he managed to overpower her. But Jude regains her composure quickly.

“I’m sure you could’ve found a way,” she grits out, squirming under his weight, but silently thankful he is not completely bare. “You could have warned me before we went to meet the Queen of the sea, given me a secret note, something!”

His brow raises. “Like you warned me before you made me king?”

Jude shakes her head, puffs out a breath of frustration. “That’s different.”

“It is exactly the same. I would not have agreed to your plan, and neither would have you.”

She wants to kick him in the balls again.

“And you _are_ here,” Cardan adds when she says nothing. “I knew you would figure it someday. That, or you would be reckless enough to try to barge in here anyway, and discover it in the process.” His right hand curls around her fist gripping the knife and lowers it slowly. Jude finds herself letting him. His lashes lower, and he murmurs, “We left the part with knives a long time ago.”

Jude feels like someone has drained her of every emotion. All this boiled up anger and the wasted hours spent in numbness seem to have evaporated and left nothing but dust and emptiness. Her throat feels as dry as sandpaper as she speaks, “Why did you exile me?”

Sitting up and stretching his neck, he replies, “You killed my brother.”

She releases a low breath and punches him in the stomach. He knows what she means. Why did he exile her at all if she could come back by herself the whole time? It doesn’t make sense.

Cardan makes a face and rubs the spot on his stomach, his skin glistening in the moonlight. “They wanted to see a High King, so I gave them one. Orlagh wanted you gone and I needed her trust.”

“So she wouldn’t go to war with you?”

“That, and so that her armies and power would be on my side when more resistance comes.”

“Resistance? From who?”

It’s not surprising that not everyone agrees with Cardan’s rule. And Jude hasn’t been here for five months, so god knows what happened during that time.

Cardan gets up from the bed and puts on a black silk robe before pouring himself a goblet of wine that’s standing on a carved-wood-and-silver tray.

So his drinking habits haven’t changed either, she thinks grimly.

“Madoc has been arming up against me since before you left,” he finally says and takes a sip. “I believe it is not long anymore until he makes his move.”

Jude swallows and braces her face in her hands. Madoc never agreed with Cardan as the High King. Merely a young and feckless king in his eyes. Even when she was his seneschal he asked her to work with him and end his reign, so it only makes sense that he wants to end it now.

The dark, cloudy threat looming over their heads threatens to overshadow her initial reason for coming, but she finds that she cannot let go it entirely yet. It would be like letting go of the only friend that was there for you during a hard time.

Even with his excuses, Cardan could have made different choices. They could have worked together, as he promised the night they wed, but instead, he chose the easy way out. Part of him still enjoys seeing her all weak and helpless. He wanted to prove that he's beaten her in something she was good at. The final payback for what she did to him when she made him king. Childish. Foolish to act that way when there were much more pressing issues at hand.

“So,” she says, voice cold, “you wanted me to figure out I can come back, and then what? What do you want now, Cardan?”

His eyes gleam in the darkness as his fingers clutch around the goblet. “I want us to work together.”

She snorts. "As if you would ever want that."

"I do. I made you a promise to rule over Elfhame by my side, the two of us together, and I intend to keep it."

He told her that at their wedding. The wedding he staged to trick her into releasing him from his vow of obedience. The wedding he refused to acknowledge.

"That was all a bunch of lies made to sound like promises," she spits, jumping up from his bed. Their supposed marriage is still a scar that has yet to heal. "The answer is no. I will not work with you. I won't do that mistake again."

Cardan throws his goblet on the tray which produces unnerving, loud clattering. "Then let me ask you a question, Jude. Why did you come here?" Strands of his raven black hair fall in his face as he strides forward, staring her down. "If not to kill me," he says, "what are you planning to do here?"

The fact that she doesn't have an answer to that question makes her hands ball into fists. She hates that he has learned to read her during their time together. That he is still capable of doing it. Most of all, she hates that he might know her even more than she knows him. It scares her as much as the threat of war that would place peace and her family on opposing sides.

Jude glances up at him. They are standing so close she can feel his breath hitch when she places a hand on his chest and swallows audibly. "You're right. I don't have a plan." His heartbeat beneath her chest is steady, calming, so that she summons the courage to say, "Maybe I just wanted to see you."

"You wanted to see me," he repeats an irregular heartbeat later.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"You hate me."

It's fascinating how Cardan's calm confidence has turned into this doubting, almost self-pitying voice in a matter of a few words.

"So do you," Jude replies, holding his gaze. "And yet."

And yet, he wants her. Wanted her. Kissed and touched and caressed her.

Cardan takes a breath and leans forward until his lips are so close to her that it nearly hurts not to close the distance. "I know what you are doing," he whispers, his thumb smoothing down a trail on her cheek, "and you are playing very, very dirty."

As manipulative and dishonest they have treated each other in the past, this thing between them has never been a thing that they toyed with. From the start, it was honest curiosity that drove her to kiss him with a knife against his throat. And then it was the utter sexual tension she felt being anywhere near him and the feelings growing inside her, that she denied for so long. Never a ploy. Until now.

Jude realized that there is no use in hurting him politically or physically, not without unleashing Madoc's brutal and bloody nature on all of Fairieland. But hurting Cardan, breaking his heart... it's the closest thing she can do to make him feel even an ounce of what he did to her.

And Cardan knows that. He knows that it's unlike her to drop her grudge and admit her defeat, let alone tell him she wanted to see him. Nevermind that somewhere deep inside these words actually held truth.

Maybe that will be his punishment. Never knowing if it is the truth, forever wondering if what she says and does to him is just another scheme to make him pay in the end. Slow, never-ending torture.

"So stop it then," Jude dares him, tilting her head so that her nose brushes along his face. "Stop me."

He cannot, of course. So he does not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware: this is like 50/50 hate sex and bickering

Cardan feels like the last time she remembers him to be: his lips soft but insistent, hands wandering but unerring and his taste a touch of something sweet that could kill you if you got lost in it. Jude tries to remain sober-minded, keep a certain emotional distance so that when he'll need and want her the most, she can pull away and leave him hanging there.

That‘s the _plan_.

But then his nose brushes against her cheek, his lips sliding effortlessly against hers and it feels like falling. Jude is falling off a cliff, and there‘s nothing she can do except slide her hands into his hair and pull him closer so they can tumble through the air together.

Only when her legs hit the edge of the bed, does she regain some of her senses and pull away, even if it‘s just so little that she can still feel his breath tickle her skin. Jude swallows, her eyes closed. What is she doing here? She wanted to get revenge on Cardan, not fall right back into bed with him.

He seems to feel her hesitation because he steps away, his hands falling from her waist. Jude despises herself for missing the weight of them immediately. The mortal world made her weak. Then again Cardan always had the affinity to bring out the softest and most helpless parts of her.

„I can make arrangements to give you a chamber,“ he says then.

Jude‘s gaze on him is hard, just as her voice when she speaks. „Who says I‘m going to stay?“

„You‘re not making any effort to leave.“

„I _will_ leave.“

„Very well then. Good night, Jude.“

It bothers her that he‘s able to say this with so much ease and grace. They had their mouths on each other a minute ago — something that would have driven him mad with want six months ago, no matter how much he hated and fought against that particular craving. Cardan could not resist her. And Jude could not resist him. Now, however, he is acting like it was his grandmother that kissed him and not her. Jude‘s hands ball into fists, and she doesn't move a muscle to leave.

„If all you are going to do is stand and stare, that‘s fine by me. But I need my rest. I have an early council meeting tomorrow morning.“

Since when did he bother to go to any kind of meetings? Ah, yes, since he decided to actually play the role of the High King of Elfhame without telling her about it.

_Prick._

Jude watches, still glowering, as Cardan pads past her and slips into his bed, his dark hair almost the same color as the black color of his plush pillows.

She would love to go right now to prove her point. But the problem is that it must be around four at night in the mortal realm right now. Vivi is probably sleeping. Jude has nowhere else to go.

„You know,“ Cardan says after a stretch of forced silence from her side, „my bed is big enough for two.“

„I‘m not going to sleep in the same bed as you,“ Jude tells him and hopes it comes out as disgusted and cruel as she wants it to be.

Not enough, because his voice is unfazed. „There is still time for your great vengeance tomorrow, Jude. Rest.“

„ _You_ rest.“

„I am.“

„Then why are you talking to me?“

At that Cardan sits up, an exasperated sigh leaving his body. „I cannot sleep when you stand over there and rage in silence. It is irritating.“

„I don‘t care.“ Heaven, she sounds like a three-year-old petulant child, precisely like Madoc probably viewed her as. And yet she crosses her arms, refusing to look at Cardan again.

„This must be my punishment for exiling you,“ he mutters.

He deserves much worse than her being stubborn and annoying, but if it ruins his night, she is content with that as well. Every little victory counts.

Jude is still musing about her plans that she doesn‘t notice him getting up again until she feels his warm hand on her arm. Her eyes snap to his face.

„Rest.“

„No.“

„Rest,“ he repeats, louder and firmer this time, using his High King voice, „or I will make you.“

Jude holds his gaze, raising her chin. He may be the High King, but she is Jude Duarte, raised and taught by a bloodthirsty general, a former spy in the court of shadows, kingmaker and High Queen. Valerian and Belekin — two strong and much older Fae — died by _her_ hand. Cardan Greenbriar is just another person to underestimate her.

„You can try,” she says.

She expects him to back off, or perhaps use his new found magic on her. If Cardan can create a whole island out of the waves, surely he can force her to rest, or mess with the sleeping hormones in her body. Instead, he steps behind her and his hands land on her shoulders, fingers flexing against the strained muscles in her body.

“What are you doing?” Jude asks. The confidence she was wearing seconds ago is nowhere to be found, evaporated just like her breath. She doesn’t stop him from kneading her flesh, though.

“I hear that mortals like to give each other massages to relax.” He gets to a particular spot on her back, and she has to grit her teeth not to let out an embarrassing gasp. “So that is what I am doing”

Jude wants to tell him to fuck off, but all she does is close her eyes.

“You are very tense,” he murmurs, his breath tickling her ear.

Goosebumps shiver across her back and arms. Sucking in a deep breath, she manages to say, “I thought you had to get up early.”

“I do. But I would not be able to sleep with you standing here anyhow. I might as well make the best of it.”

“And what is that?”

That’s when she feels his lips on the exposed spot on her shoulder, pressing a featherlight kiss against her skin. “Let me make it up to you,” he murmurs.

“How?” She isn’t sure if Cardan is even able to hear her because of how dry her throat is.

Everything in her is tingling and swirling. Jude could withstand Cardan beings his usual, sarcastic self. She had even enough restraint to pull away from his hard, desperate kisses just now. But she cannot withstand him being like this.

 _Soft_.

_Caring._

That’s how she imagined mortal boys to be, or Locke before she found out what a deceiving, little rat he was, but not Cardan. The former prince that had made her eat golden apples and embarrass herself in front of everyone. Who had hated the thing inside him that made him think about her. The High King that tricked her into being his wife before banishing her from the lands she grew to view as her home.

His hands travel downwards, pausing at her waist and spinning her around. “Just let me.”

She still has enough willpower inside her to murmur, “You could never make it up” even though she can feel it slipping away with each second.

“Let me try,” he says, leaning down to her collarbone and pressing another gentle kiss there. “Let me kiss it away.”

“You can’t possibly have so many kisses.”

“I’m High Fae. I have a lot of time.”

Jude can feel him grinning against her as he works his lips against every inch of her skin. And because all of this is driving her insane and weak, she slides one hand in his hair and yanks him up. “Not like that.” She stands on her tiptoes and closes the distance between them that they have held since they broke apart. Her kiss is hard again, demanding, and relentless. After a moment of hesitation, Cardan reacts, pushing back. He grabs her hips and pulls her in which elicits a sharp gasp out of her mouth.

Jude pulls back slightly and nods, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths. “Like this,” she says.

Thankfully, Cardan gets the point. He crushes his lips back against her and crowds her against the bed. This time Jude doesn’t break away. She pulls him closer, opens her mouth for him and lets him hoist up her right thigh and push her body against him.

She only pulls away to pant, “Tell me what you’re making up for.”

“For exiling you.” Cardan’s body is rock hard against her.

Jude gasps as one of his hands slips under her shirt and swirls around her breast. “And?”

“For not telling you about my plan.”

Cardan curses low and hoarse when her shirt keeps slipping down, so he tears his lips away from the skin of her neck and stands back a step to get rid of her cloak, shirt, and bra, all of those things landing somewhere in the corner of his room. Then he slips back into her personal space and buries his head between her breasts.

Jude has trouble having any clear thoughts with his tongue attached to her nipple while his fingers are swirling around the other one. Yet she still persists in continuing this game, “And?”

Cardan lets out a harsh, low sound at that, which would piss her off if it didn’t send a delicious vibration through the delicate skin on her chest. “I’m making up for deluding you into releasing me from my oath,” his teeth graze her and Jude releases a trembling whine, “for not informing you that you were able to come here all along,” her hands tighten in his dishevelled curls and press him lower down her body, “for humiliating you in front of the others,” Cardan’s nose brushes against her navel, “but most of all for failing to keep you safe.”

Something in Jude registers these last words, but his hands are dipping down her sides and working her zip on her jeans. She is too far gone to ask him about the meaning of it.

“Now tell me you’re sorry.”

Instead of answering Cardan pulls down pants and sucks on the inside of her thighs, so Jude tugs at his hair. “ _Say it,_ _Cardan._ ”

He looks up, and their eyes meet. His hands go still at the spot where they are resting at her hip bones. “I cannot.”

A surge of anger flashes through her and her chest heaves with that bitter sting of being denied. He is not sorry for exiling her. That bastard —

“Because,” Cardan’s eyes flutter closed as he lowers his mouth back to her thighs, “it was the best possible solution at that time.”

Jude wants to kick her knee into his face but restrains herself when he edges closer and closer to her clit “I hate you,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“So much.”

“I don’t hate you.”

That revelation makes her eyes go wide for a second, her heart thunder even faster than it already was. Only for an instant, though. Then he noses her through her underwear, a basic, white, silky slip. Her eyes roll back as he kisses her through the thin fabric.

“Take them off already, asshole,” Jude bites out when she can’t take any more of his teasing.

Cardan only hesitates for a moment before obliging. “Very well, your highness.” She doesn’t know whether he’s mocking her or if that’s his way of apologizing for something he’s not sorry for, but she doesn’t care at that moment because whatever it is, it works. Her hands ball in his hair, and he buries his head between her thighs.

The noises she makes as he works his tongue on her are obscene, but her thoughts are more shocking. _We could have had that all this time_ , slips into her mind. _If he hadn’t banished me, we could have done this every day and longer and I had wanted that._ Jude shakes her head and urges Cardan for more; for something that will banish these stupid, naive dreams and make her think about _nothing_.

Cardan pushes a finger inside her, and there is a reason why she’s so fascinated with the length of them.

 _More_. Jude still needs more. And after more tugging on his hair, and cursing him, and gasping, Cardan gives her just that.

Jude comes with his damned name on her lips before letting her head fall back on the sheets in momentary bliss and exhaustion. After a few silent seconds, she feels him slip away from between her thighs, his hands ghosting across her skin before he presses his lips against her stomach.

“Did I make it up to you?”

Slowly, she perches up on her elbows, her gaze raking over the pale skin on his firm chest. With the moonlight shining through the window, it looks like he’s glowing. Maybe he is. “No.”

There is no surprise on his face, only a lazy, content expression.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she says.

“Oh?”

“You said you have time.”

Cardan’s face splits into a familiar smirk and Jude’s chest aches at every memory that flits through her mind at that. Her hand fists in his black, velvety sheets. “Four hours to be precise,” he tells her, “but aside from that yes.”

“Then make them count,” she replies.

Cardan crawls over until he’s looming over her, his beautiful, sharp-jawed face bare inches away from her own. Despite their act mere minutes ago and her nudity — despite everything, her breath still hitches in her throat when he’s so close she can taste his breath. “Just do it already,” Jude hisses.

Whatever was holding him back releases like a whip, and he crushes their lips together, his hand tilting her face up to him, thumb stroking along her jaw. Her eyes close. She arches up into him so that their bodies press together and she can feel the hard lines of his torso against her.

To her utter dismay, he stops her when she thumbs at the fabric of his briefs, wanting — no, needing them down so that he can finally, properly fuck her.

“What?” she pants.

Cardan’s shoulders hunch slightly; a gesture so human she almost forgets who is currently on top of her. Not a mortal, and not an unimportant fairie either. “Just…”

“What?” she asks again, brows furrowed. When Cardan says nothing, she swallows. “Do you not want to?”

She hates Cardan. Or a part of her hates another part of him. But if he does not want this — whatever manipulative, needy, twisted thing this is — as much as she does, Jude will not either.

“No, no.” He looks reassuring enough to believe that. "Forget it."

“Make me.”

The lazy curl around his mouth returns, and he leans down and kisses her again. The softness in this one, the gentle press of his lips, makes her heart thud a little too loudly for her liking, so she fists her fingers through his hair and drags him closer.

He manages to lose his briefs while they kiss each other into oblivion. The feel of his hardness against Jude's thigh makes her lose focus for a second. Jude knows how he looks naked, saw him in all his glory that one time so many months ago now. But they didn‘t — they didn‘t have sex then. He used his fingers, and she used her hand on him. Now she doesn‘t want any of that. Jude wants it all.

Her hands shimmy their way down from the soft curls of his ink black hair to the skin on his neck to his back where they settle. „Make up for it,“ she says, fitting her legs around him. Her voice comes out much breathier and pleading than she had in mind.

She feels Cardan‘s lashes flutter against the sensitive skin on her neck, his teeth grazing, tickling her. „Are you sure,“ he starts, „you are —"

„ _Cardan_.“ Her tone leaves no room for whatever particular question he wanted to ask about her experience or lack thereof he thinks Jude has. Cardan was her only her experience five months ago, yes, but a lot can happen in that time.

She found out that it doesn't take a lot of effort to find someone to take home at night, batting her eyelashes here, a charming smile there and it was done. And well, Jude was desperate enough to forget about the feeling, taste, or scent of Cardan that she made do with the first people she found in mortal bars and pubs. It rarely helped to ease the dreams and memories that haunted her. And, considering the situation she is right now, it was redundant altogether, aside for the few tricks she learned.

Because Cardan is still not moving the body part she wants him to move, she adds, „ _Please_.“

It does the trick. One of his hands travels downward, rubbing that spot that sets her belly ablaze and she feels him line up to her entrance, push a little. He had two fingers inside her, but that‘s more than two fingers, and Jude releases a surprised gasp. Cardan pushes in further before stilling.

She clutches at his back. „Move.“

Taking her chin, he leans her up for a hungry kiss, and when his hips finally start moving, he swallows the sound she makes. It’s a special kind of feeling to feel him everywhere. His tongue in her mouth, hips snapping into her, fingers teasing and petting her skin. Every inch of her is covered in him, Cardan, and the feelings that this realization provokes are contradicting.

Jude digs her nails into his back and lets her eyes roll back when he grazes a particular spot inside her. It’s there, but not yet. Just slightly out of reach. Grasping his shoulders in a desperate kind of movement, she breathes, “I — I need to —”

“What do you need, Jude? Huh?” His voice has an edge to it. The calm, lazy exterior he usually wears is shattering piece by piece, and heat flashes through her parts because it’s her doing. She is causing that, and she enjoys it.

Instead of answering, she flips them over with more ease than she expected. Jude sees Cardan smiling vaguely before he leans up to press kisses to her breasts as she readjusts their position. The pleasure rolling through her body when she starts moving, raising her hips a little and snapping them down, is mind-blowing.

“Take what you need,” Cardan murmurs against her skin. “Take it all.”

She wants to swat at his mouth and tell him to shut up but the truth is that his voice is doing things to her — amazing, toe-curling things. So she lets him talk their way through it, even if at some point words turn into a string of curses and Jude ends up falling apart, chanting profanities with Cardan following soon after.

Jude doesn’t lie beside him or do anything of that romantic sort when they are done. She picks up her clothing thrown all over the floor and dresses while avoiding to look at Cardan.

When she’s back in her clothes and braiding her hair into a loose pigtail, his voice pierces the silence, “You are leaving.” It's not a question.

Straightening her shoulders, she finally turns to him. “I told you I will.”

“That, you did.” His gaze on her is hard to read, something between curiosity, amusement and that rare shadow she sees in his eyes from time to time. “Grant me a favor and leave the palace without being recognized.”

Jude frowns. “Why?”

“Because everyone here is in the belief that you are banished to the mortal world,” he says, “and I intend to keep it that way.”

More questions pop up. One gets the best of her, though. “What if I had barged in here and announced myself tonight? How did you know I wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t. But I knew you are smarter than this. You are like a shadow, Jude.” He cocks his head, eyes glittering. “ _My_ shadow.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “And you are my worst nightmare. I still hate you.” Admittedly, that is, somewhat, childish. But when he said that he had known she was smart, part of her felt something like joy, wanting to be liked and praised at him, and Jude loathes herself for it. She knows her own worth and doesn’t need to hear it from anyone else, especially not Cardan.

“I will never tire of hearing such lovely things coming out of your mouth,” he says with a smile, and she sends him a glower.

“I hope you choke on your wine during the council meeting.”

“It is early, still. Try tea.”

“When did the early hours ever stop you from drinking?”

He shrugs. “Things have changed, Jude.” _I have changed_ , his eyes seem to say, but most probably that’s the stupid and naive girl talking in her, the same girl that agreed to marry him.

“I’m leaving now,” she announces after gathering herself. Jude straps her knife back to her pants and slowly makes her way to the door.

Cardan doesn't say anything. Until he does. “Will you be back?”

She stops but doesn’t turn around. The truth is that she doesn’t know what she will do now. The mortal realm is no longer a bleak prison she is banished to but only the place she spent her last five months at. But it’s not like she can just return to Elfhame. Certainly not when Cardan expects her to stay in the shadows. So what now? Jude takes a breath and tells him, “If I planned to, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Jude slips out of his room the same way she came in: quietly and unseen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait guys. I blame my cat who didn't want to move from my lap which kept me from editing this thing, but I hope you liked this and would be happy to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Also, I decided that this fic will have no set amount of chapters, I'm just gonna add them as I go. I don't really have a specific plot for this either, just these scenes and moments I wanna write, so it fits lol anyway I'll try to be faster with the next update


	3. Chapter 3

Jude spends two weeks quenching the desire to return to Elfhame.

It‘s an extraordinary feeling she left with that night. Cardan _needs_ her. Before Dain, before Belekin and Madoc‘s coup, Cardan hated her and somehow thought of her at the same time. After his crowning, he even wanted her — physically, of course — and Jude was the one who needed him, or to be more precise: his oath and his status of High King. But now it‘s him who needs her. For what exactly, Jude isn‘t sure. He just said that he wanted to work with her, and for some stupid reason, she actually believes him, and thrives of that knowledge.

The problem, though, is that returning would mean losing. But staying here isn‘t a victory either, not for her own person, at least. The mortal world drains her. Jude hates it even if she doesn’t hate Vivi and Oak.

Then again they — Vivianne Duarte in particular — don’t make it easy on her either. The moment her sister picked her up up from the Milkwood forest in Elfhame, Vivi knew what was up. What had happened. Apparently, it‘s some kind of sister bond thing. And she did not like it. She placed her hands on her hips like the mother they lost so long ago and said, _Oh no, you didn‘t._

 _I don‘t know what you‘re talking about,_ Jude replied averting her gaze.

 _When I told you not to kill Cardan, I didn‘t mean you should_ do _him!_

_Vivi!_

_Jude!_

It went on like that. Vivi asked what she was thinking, and Jude shrugged. She couldn‘t answer what she would do now, nor if it made her feel any better, nor why Cardan wanted her help.

But Jude did, however, get to hear all about how it wouldn‘t be a wise decision to return. That it would throw her life back into the game of life and death and royalty and lies. That she would have to be in constant fear of what intrigues the next day might bring.

And she‘s aware of all that, has been through all of these arguments more than enough on the first night home and nearly every day after that. But it feels like it didn‘t do anything but confirm something she‘s been suspecting for a long time now.

That Jude needs it. That sick thrill of power and deceptions and games. Part of her simply loves scheming, watching people — or Fae — and figuring out how they work, and the rush of adrenaline when the stakes are at their highest. Of course, her time in court was limited to five months only, and she‘s sure years or decades won‘t be as easy on her, especially since the five months weren‘t easy on her either. But being holed up in this apartment, going grocery shopping at Target or watching shows with fake laughter in the background isn‘t any better. No, it‘s worse. It confines the essence of her very self. It‘s not Jude Duarte who lives here, but someone else, someone weaker, less lively, less Jude.

So yes, making the big what-now-decision is the opposite of easy. And it doesn‘t get any less complicated when their doorbell rings and Vivi calls her out of her room, voice high and confused. Jude steps out, expecting one of their neighbors complaining about something, or perhaps even one of the men she sneaked into her room in the past — they always turn out to be much more attached than they pretend to be — but she definitely doesn‘t expect Cardan fucking Greenbriar standing at her doorstep.

Jude halts in her steps, all of the air in her lungs leaving her at once.

„Hello, Jude,“ he says.

Vivi glances to her, to Cardan, back to Jude, before she huffs out a puff of air, shakes her head and says, „I‘ll give you two some space.“

Jude manages a nod.

„And close that goddamn door, Cardan. We‘re not in Elfhame, we don‘t want an audience,“ Vivi adds and strides off to her own room.

Cardan presses his lips together and closes the door behind him, looking very awkward and out of place as he does it. He‘s wearing fancy clothes as always. Black silk shirt with dramatic gold lines on the edges and on his chest, a black cape that falls to his feet with sharp, pointed feathers at the end, black, leather high knee boots with pointy ends, velvety black painted fingernails. Even for Fairie, where _everyone_ loves to dress up, he‘s pretty dramatic. Jude doesn‘t want to know what the people must think of him _here_. Or she does. It looks hilarious in her head —

Jude wills herself back to the present, to Cardan, and crosses her arms. „What are you doing here, Cardan?“

„Getting you,“ he says like it‘s obvious.

She frowns. „Why?“

„I told you. I want us to work together. And since you obviously want me to beg for it, I am doing just that.“

„You‘re here to —“ Jude can‘t help herself, she laughs, „— beg me to return?“

He makes a face. „Well, I planned to ask nicely first before getting on my knees.“

Is he joking? Or is he being serious? _Oh god_ , and now she‘s smiling. Jude bites the inside of her cheek and forces herself to straighten her back, remain unfazed, look like this whole situation isn‘t amusing or shocking or affecting her at all.

„I can‘t just go,“ she finally says, surprising both of them.

„No?“

She puffs out a breath. „No.“ If this were any other person she would offer an explanation or an excuse, but this is Cardan, and he doesn‘t deserve that, which is helpful because she doesn‘t have a reason.

„I thought this is what you wanted.“ His voice is quieter than she likes. „That it is why you hate me.“

„Yes, but… no. I can‘t return with you and act like nothing ever happened.“

For a moment he merely regards her. Then he pushes away from the door and takes a step towards her. „What about a couple of days?“

„What?“

„You don‘t have to come back entirely. You spend a few days there, then I will make sure you can return to the mortal realm for the rest of the week. Jude, you don‘t have to choose.“

„So I should —  _what —_  commute between the mortal world and Fairie like some sort of child stuck between her parent‘s divorce?“

Cardan blinks. „I do not follow you.“

Jude lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes her head. „I don‘t know.“ Although she _does_ kind of know. It is a good solution. Jude doesn‘t have to choose between this world and the other, between this little family she has with Vivi and Oak and everything else in her life. It‘s not easy to admit that, though, much less to him.

„I can come back again,“ Cardan says after a moment of pressing silence. „You can consider the offer.“

But when he turns to the door, she can‘t help herself. She says, „Wait.“

Cardan looks at her.

„Fine,“ she presses out. „Fine, okay. This is a reasonable idea.“

The corners of his mouth quirk up and Jude both regrets and enjoys her choice at that moment. What is she doing? What is she doing what is she doing —

„I will wait here while you pack your belongings.“

Right. Packing. Belongings. Jude‘s mind comes awake to what she just agreed to. Oh goddamnit. She has to tell Vivi. She won‘t like it, regardless of the ‚couple of days limitation‘.

When she knocks on Vivi's bedroom door twenty minutes later, her sister opens with a knowing expression. "Let me guess. You're leaving with him," she says, making Jude look away in embarrassment. "Need I remind you that this is the same person that banished you from Elfhame in the first place? The one you've spent hating for the last few months?"

"It's not like that," Jude argues. "I'll come back. A few days there, the rest here. And I'm not leaving with him, but leaving to Elfhame. I had a life there, Vivi."

Vivi sighs. The judgemental expression on her face vanishes and is replaced with a genuinely curious frown. "Was it that bad for you here?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. I love you, I love oak, you two are my family, and you made it bearable, but... it's not who I am. This isn't my home."

For several long, silent heartbeats the two sisters just look at each other. Then Vivi lets out a sigh and tugs Jude into a hug, murmuring, "Fine, but promise me that you'll stay human."

Jude laughs. "What else am I going to be?"

"I mean that you'll stay you, and not become their weapon, or their pawn, or a cold, lifeless thing whose only purpose in life is war and bloodshed like Madoc."

Jude pulls back to look at her sister. "I won't." She presses out a smile, making it brighter and wider than she has in weeks. "Besides, you'll see in a few days and be able to check I'm still human yourself."

Vivi nods and accompanies her to their door where Cardan is waiting for Jude. He's currently staring at the TV, a miniscule frown between his brows when Jude approaches him, and he tears his gaze away to look at her.

"Are you ready?"

As ready as one can be to return to the place that both broke and made her. But all she says is, "Yes."

He nods at Vivi. She only narrows her eyes at him. So Cardan turns to the door and opens it, lips pressed together, before offering his arm to Jude. Jude, of course, ignores it and strives ahead into the stairwell.

The walk down the four flights of floors is awkward, the only sound accompanying them the clangor of their boots. Jude wonders if it will be like that from now on. If perhaps the only thing they could do together was betraying and kissing each other.

She only speaks when they arrive outside, and she waits for something to appear. "Where's the horse that will fly us back to Fairie?"

"There is no need for a horse," Cardan says and uncurls his hands from his pockets.

"There isn't?"

"No." That's all he says before placing a hand on her shoulder and the world around them tilts and shifts. It feels like flying, falling, and walking all at once and when the strange darkness releases them, they are standing in the dining room of the palace. In Fairie.

Jude blinks. "What... How did you do that?"

"It is one of the advantages that comes with being the High King," Cardan tells her with a smirk as he saunters to the table and pours himself a glass of wine. "As I said, much has changed, Jude."

"Yeah, I can see that," she says wryly, remaining where she's standing. "So... tell me about Madoc, about the rebelling armies."

Cardan gestures to the seat next across from him. "Take a seat."

She would rather not to. Actually, anything he tells her, Jude would rather not do, but she is aware this attitude will bring her nowhere if this is supposed to work somehow. So she sits down and picks at a grape from the bowl filled with fruit in front of them. Cardan starts talking.

The attempt to get his armies back was unsuccessful because when he agreed to sign them over to Madoc, he actually signed a contract. Demanding the contracts to be revoked would make him look weak and feckless. According to what the court of shadows — which is still operating — found out in the last few months, Madoc is planning something to overthrow him and gain his position. Either another coup or raiding the city until Cardan surrenders himself. But Cardan and his allies, including Orlagh and her people, have made preparations. A new army is being established, Oak is carefully watched in case Madoc tries to take him back here, and so is the King and the city.

It's a lot of information she has to process in an hour.

After he brings her up to date, they discuss Madoc's possible strategies and plans for a while. Jude wonders if that's why he needs her. She knows Madoc more than anyone else in his court. She could be vital for their defense.

After a while, Jude leans back in her chair and looks at Cardan. "What about the queen of the sea? Won't she break your alliance with you when she finds out you pardoned me after only six months?"

"She won't be that careless to threaten me again," he replies, his fingers thrumming the glass in front of him. "But I also plan to delay the big announcement of your return for now." There is an invisible question mark at the end of his sentence, and Jude waits until he adds, "If that is alright with you."

"It depends on how long you are trying to keep me hidden."

"Not forever. Only until we find our alliances and plans stable."

Sneaking around in the castle doesn't sound pleasurable, and as much as she wants to show everyone that she wasn't just a delusional, mad girl that day at the beach, Jude knows this is about more than her pride. She nods. "If it's only for now, alright."

Cardan's mouth curls into a sly smirk, and he leans forward over the table. "You are my most vulnerable secret weapon, dear Jude."

Jude tries not to feel pleased about his praise and compliment, clutches at the restraints inside her and fails.

After their brunch, he shows her to her chamber, which is the same room she had before her exile. It's strange coming back here. It looks just like the day she was forced to pack her things and leave. The same claret colored velvety sheets. A tray of nuts and snacks next to her nightstand. Curtains half closed. The couch on the side filled with pillows and blankets.

Jude's heart stutters inside her chest. She looks at Cardan and says, "If you betray me again —"

"I won't." For a second his voice doesn't sound like the one of the High King, or the one the prince that has been tormenting her all year long, not even like the one of a High Fae. Cardan just sounds like a boy, equally lost in this grand world as her, trying to do amends. He just sounds like Cardan. Then he adds, with a half smirk, "If you don't betray me either. Besides your great vengeance, of course."

Jude doesn't even have the will to be mad at that. She bites her cheek to suppress her own smile. "I'll think of something. Don't worry."

"Oh, I am most certain you will, wife," he says and places a hand on her back. The touch surprises her, makes her breath hitch. "Until then rest, have a bath, eat. I made sure there are few to none sentries in front of your room and my own dining hall, so you are free to wander without fear of being discovered. Although I am confident, you would manage otherwise as well."

Jude doesn't know if all the flattery is Cardan being his mocking self or an attempt to make up for all that's gone wrong, so she decides to ignore it. "When is the next council meeting?"

"Tomorrow noon."

"I will see you after that then."

"You will."

Jude sees him before that.

She lies on her bed and thinks of ways to outsmart Madoc for a while, but eventually, she grows bored and restless. Life in the palace was more exciting when she was the seneschal and more importantly the unofficial wirepuller, attending the meetings, strategizing with the Roach and the Bomb, securing Cardan's position, saving him from jealous ex-girlfriends or fighting for her life now and then. This is... the opposite. It's hiding like a coward. And even though she knows it's for the best, it still gets the worst of her.

So she gets out of her bed and pads into the hallway that will lead her to Cardan's room. Jude knocks, but no one answers. After a few beats of debating with herself, she allows herself to open it anyway and finds it empty. It's not surprising. He is the king, after all. He has duties and tasks unlike her.

 _Or he doesn't_ , she thinks when she finds him in the dining hall.

Cardan looks up from the book in his hands and greets her with a nod.

Jude frowns. "Are you reading?"

"It certainly looks like it, doesn't it?" He sets it aside and regards her. "Is something the matter?"

"I am dying of boredom."

"How unfortunate."

"Let me see the court of shadows. Let me talk to them."

To her surprise, he says, "Alright. I will let them be brought here."

Jude's eyebrows rise. "You will?"

The look Cardan gives her is equally puzzled. "Of course. I want to hide you from fragile alliances and my enemies, not your friends. You can visit Taryn, too, if you wish."

"No," she rubs her temple, "she worked with Madoc the last time I heard of her. My sister _is_ your enemy."

The faint glimmer in his eyes tells her Cardan was already well aware of this fact.

"Do you keep tabs on her, too?" Jude asks.

Cardan leans back in his chair. "The court of shadows is keeping a close eye on every possibly important player in this game."

"And?" she presses. "Is she still working with Madoc?"

"She occasionally visits his estate from time to time, but mostly keeps herself to her new home."

"Does Locke tell you anything?"

"Locke," Cardan's tongue clicks saying the name, "only ever does things to keep himself entertained."

"So he can't be trusted."

"No."

Of course, this isn't new information. Jude has known Locke is nothing but a backstabbing, drama-loving fox the minute she found out about her sister's and his engagement. But knowing that Cardan knows it as well is... It gives her a new perspective.

Does Cardan have anyone else? Out of his former group of friends  Valerian is dead — thanks to Jude, but also thanks to himself — Locke just wants dramatics and theatrics, and Nicasia... well, Jude doesn't want to think about her. Her stomach lurches at her name alone. Other than that all his brothers and sisters are dead. The closest thing he has to a family is Oak — a child he's never even met. Oh, and his mother who is god knows where.

Cardan is alone, and the realization makes her pity, but also relate to him. Jude has felt like that in the past. She knows what kind of feeling that is.

Shaking her head, she discards the thoughts and focuses on here and now. "I don't think Taryn necessarily knows what she's doing with Madoc, but I trust her to be desperate enough to help him again someday. She can't know I'm here."

"Very well." Cardan nods and stands up. "I will get Van and Lilliver."

She waits there while Cardan goes to get them, helping herself to some bread and cheese. Her blood is thrumming with excitement, anticipation, even a tad of fear. What if they think she's crazy? What if the only reason they liked her was that she had a rank in the palace and now that Cardan's the High King, officially and unofficially, they don't think anything of her anymore? Jude wishes she could drink some of that wine on the table and makes a mental note of arranging ordinary, human wine for herself. For times like this.

Waiting for them feels like forever, but eventually, she hears familiar voices come closer and closer. They're light, casual. She rubs the tip of her missing finger, heart beating faster and faster.

The Roach is the first one to come in, followed by the Bomb and Cardan. Jude doesn't know whether to stand, or remain sitting, to smile or not, to —

"Jude!" the Roach exclaims. His arms are around her in a second.

She's too relieved to let any doubts cloud her thoughts, and just hugs him back, smiling. "Van, it's so good to see you."

He releases her with a grin, but the Bomb quickly replaces him. "Welcome back, queen."

Jude isn't sure if that's just her nickname in her mouth or a confession about knowing the marriage to Cardan. Pulling back, Jude says, "I missed you guys."

"Likewise," the Bomb says, grinning, and punches her shoulder.

"I will leave you, people... to it," Cardan suddenly says behind him his hands behind his back, and she remembers that he's, in fact, still here. He's wearing a strange expression on his face. A mix of something like a genuine but apologetic smile.

Or that's only the fool talking in Jude. Either way, she tears her eyes away from him and back to her friends who look momentarily confused at Cardan leaving.

"How have you been doing?" the Bomb asks.

"How's Oak?" Van wants to know.

Jude's smile falters for a moment, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. "What exactly did Cardan tell you after I... had to leave?"

The two of them look at each other before turning their gazes back to her.

"He said he staged your banishment," the Bomb tells her, "so that Orlagh and her army would stand with him when Madoc attacks."

So it was the truth when Cardan told her that.

"We've been waiting for you quite some time now," the Roach says with a shrug.

"So he told you about our..."

It feels hard to utter these words without feeling like the foolish, mad girl that she was that day on the beach. Jude's relieved when he finishes it for her, "... wedding?"

"That," Jude says with a nod.

"He did. That's why we were always on the lookout for you."

"Why didn't you guys say anything?" Her voice comes out more hurt than she intended to. "Cardan said he's always being watched, but you — you're the court of shadows. If you don't want to be seen, no one _will_ see you. You could have told me somehow."

"Jude," the Bomb says slowly, "I don't think you understand what it was like after you were gone. Madoc knew that without you Cardan was truly on his own for the first time since his crowning. He also knew how vulnerable the alliance with the sea was. The palace and we were watched day and night, waiting for him to make a mistake, deem himself unworthy to the people, show any weakness. There were four assassination attempts in the first two weeks alone —"

"There were?"

They both nod. The Bomb goes on, "We were always prepared for you to come back, but it was good that it didn't happen in the first few months. Everything was so vulnerable."

"So what changed?" Jude asks, still puzzled.

"Not much," the Roach says with a shrug. "You know Madoc is still trying to attack, but our relationship with Orlagh is much more stable. The surveillance has been reduced from what we can gather. The number of attempts to murder the king has shrunk, too."

She frowns. "How many attempts were there exactly?"

"I stopped counting after twelve," Van says.

"A lot of," the Bomb replies.

"But what if someone saw me go to the palace the day I first returned?"

The Bomb shoots her a grin. "Come on."

For a moment Jude just looks at her. Then it dawns on her. "Oh, you were there?"

"The whole night in the forest."

"How did you know I came?"

"We didn't. The king did."

Well, it turns out there were still things he didn't tell her about. But Jude supposes it wouldn't have changed anything either. Finally, she lets out a sigh and leans against the palm of her hand. "I was so mad when I was exiled. Now I'm just... confused." It feels both terrifying to talk about it, and like letting something go that has been keeping her down for ages.

"If it's any help, Cardan went, somewhat, mad, too after you left," the Roach says, settling down in the seat next to her and pouring himself a glass of wine. The Bomb sits down next to him, stuffing a cracker into her mouth.

Jude tries not to look curious or affected by this piece of information, but her brows rise on her forehead anyway. "He did?"

"Oh, yes. As we already said, it was a difficult time, but I have never seen him so... distraught," the Roach goes on.

After another cracker, the Bomb adds, "It could have been that one imp that nearly cut off his tail, but I think your absence played its role, too."

"He yelled at a lot of people."

"There was an incident where he cracked a hole into the ceiling of the palace. It took two weeks to seal it."

"One time I think I heard him cry."

Jude narrows her eyes at Van. "You're bluffing."

"Alright, I might be overreaching," he holds up his hands, "but his eyes were really red and puffy."

Even though this last bit of information cannot be right and therefore has to be a gross exaggeration, learning that her banishment actually had an effect on Cardan is shocking. All this time Jude thought he'd be happy to see her gone. The mortal girl who never bent to his will, the person who managed to trick him and put him under her oath, the thorn in his eye — finally out of the way. She never believed he would react in any way, let alone so emotionally and drastically that the court of shadows would notice.

Again, the picture she repainted of him in her head over the last few months shifts. This day is full of surprises.

The topic changes from the King to anything else that happened while she was wasting months in the mortal realm. The Bomb and the Roach give her another perspective of Madoc's plan which is trying to turn the people against Cardan. So far they have been content, as far as a nation can be with their monarch, but eventually, he's bound to make a mistep, and that's when Madoc will probably strike. He's already spreading whispers and rumors among the people. The king is young and feckless. All he wants is barrels of wine and beds of lovers. Which, technically, isn't a lie. It is something that Cardan has proven to favor in the past, but it's not all there is to him, especially as the King. He has wits and brains — Jude had to find out the hard way.

Apparently, the court of shadows has grown, too. With Jude exiled, the Ghost vanished, only two members remained which wasn't much for a turbulent time like this. Since then the two of them have recruited three new spies. The Spider, the Bolt, and an imp named Rohan who hasn't earned his surname yet.

The sun outside the palace has set by the time the Bomb and the Roach have to return to their duties, leaving Jude alone in the dining hall. She sits there in silence for a while, letting everything she's learned today seep through her mind. A crow screams in the distance.

After another few minutes, she decides to see Cardan. Jude doesn't have any exact questions she wants to ask or words she has to tell him. There's just this deep, persistent need to speak to him right now. Her heartbeat is loud in her ears as she knocks on his door, hoping that this time he'll be there.

The door opens, but there's no one performing the act. Instead, Cardan's lying on his bed, head propped on pillows, hands resting on yet another book on his lap, and a slow smile spreading on his lips at the sight of her.

Jude enters the room, the door flying shut behind her, and raises a brow. "Is that one of your new magic tricks as well?"

"Yes," he says, sitting up, "it turns out I have quite a few of those. Perhaps that's why swordplay never beckoned to me. Perhaps I was destined for more all this time."

She's surprised he's telling her this, so she takes a few steps towards him and sits down on the edge of his enormous bed, touching the soft material of his sheets. "Do you believe that becoming the King was your fate, too?"

"I do not believe in destiny as an unalterable ending. I do believe that there are certain ways life can take us, many directions and crossings we can take by making different decisions. And perhaps being the King was one of those. If it was the right choice, however... remains to be seen."

Jude nods a little, thinking about her own crossroad of choices and where her life will take her. Then, after a moment of silence, she asks Cardan, "How did you know I was here when I came back?"

He doesn't ask how she knows that he knew. (God, her head's spinning.) Cardan just looks at her, his long fingers softly tracing circles in the palm of his other hand. "I felt you," he finally says. "You entered Elfhame, and I felt you."

"Do you feel other people too?" she wants to know. It's clear that he has a connection to Elfhame now that he's fully grown into the role of the High King. That is one explanation. Or, it could be another... "Would you know if Vivi flew back here right now? Or the Bomb if she came from the mortal side?"

"I am not sure," Cardan replies, holding her gaze. "I just know that I will always be able to feel _you_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly i don't really remember what the bomb and the roach were like.... so forgive me if they are ooc!!! 
> 
> btw feel free to tell me what you‘d like to see in this fic in the comments below! (for this fic specifically, tho, since that‘s what I‘m writing right now.) and of course tell me what you think of this so far <3


	4. Chapter 4

  
For a few weeks, it goes like that. Jude spends three days in Elfhame, helping Cardan to avoid Madoc‘s attacks — that happen twice — strategizing with the Bomb and the Roach, and working on her own plans. Then she returns to the mortal realm where she continues to give Oak his lessons and spend time with Vivi, mostly gossiping about the cute girl her sister recently met.

It‘s alright. It feels like things are finally starting to fall into place again, but Jude can‘t help but feel like something is missing, something tiny but crucial and it‘s nagging at the wires and nerves in her brain. Maybe she is sick of sneaking around the palace like some sort of coward, or perhaps the things between Cardan and her feel unresolved and blurry, or maybe she just wants to see the faces of the people who laughed in her face when they see her standing in the throne room in Elfhame, alive and well. Whatever it is, it comes to the surface when summer solstice arrives.

„I don‘t want to hide in my room,“ Jude announces ver breakfast, playing with the banana in her hand, „while everyone is out enjoying themselves at the party.“

Cardan sets down a napkin next to his plate. “Then don’t.”

Jude’s brows shoot up. “Huh?”

“You are free to join the festivities.”

“I thought we wanted to keep this a secret until Madoc is dealt with?” Which is far from done.

“There are options, Jude,” Cardan says with an idle shrug. “I believe you are more than capable than going unnoticed in a crowd.” Her heart twitches with foolish hope when he leans forward on the table and gives her a look. “But there is another option.”

“Being what?”

“I could glamour you.”

Jude blinks. “You could do that?”

“I think that I can. I would make you look like yet another ordinary fairy at this celebration. No one would ever know Jude Duarte, oh powerful King Maker, seneschal and High Queen of Elfhame is among them.”

A snort escapes her as she lets the possibility run through her mind. It could work.

Cardan cocks his head, his brow raised. “What do you say?”

“You will be able to reverse the glamour, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Okay,” she says and lets out a nervous smile. “Let’s do this.”

It’s not as satisfying as seeing Orlagh and Taryn and Madoc and every other person who betrayed and doubted her in her true form, but it’s still something. After half a year of smelling pubs and bad television Jude will attend a ball, organized by none other than Locke, her twin sister’s theatrical husband.

Not even two hours later they’re standing in Jude’s chamber. Her heart is beating wildly as Cardan regards her with a look of focus as if he’s doing math equations, and even though she would rather stab herself than admit it, she is excited. For what reason exactly remains to be seen.

When Cardan raises a hand to her cheek, Jude scowls.

Surprisingly, Cardan scowls right back. “I need to touch you to do it.”

Things with Cardan have been… as they always are. Charged. Undefined. Terrifying. Part of her still holds a grudge for the last six months of her life and the day at the beach. The other part is stupid and is therefore not worth listening to.

“Whatever,” she says, puffing out a small sigh.

The palm of his weight is heavy but still gentle, and for several moments all he does is stare holes into her forehead. Jude looks away, trying to keep her cool. After a minute he lifts his hand off her cheek and nudges her towards the huge mirror on the wall.

At first glance, Jude wonders what the hell he was being so touchy for. Then she sees it. Her ears. They are _pointed._

“Heaven,” she murmurs, gaping at her reflection as her hands instinctively touch her pointy, fairy ears.

Cardan steps behind her, touching her neck this time. While she’s still looking into the mirror, something happens to her face. Her features get blurrier like there’s a layer of fog on her eyes. And in the next moment, she’s staring at a stranger.

An oval face with a long, thin nose and sharp cheekbones and ash white hair is standing in her place.

“You are right,” she breathes. “No one will recognize me.”

“Not today,” Cardan agrees, suddenly having a necklace dangling from his fingers and placing it around her neck, “but soon. Soon you will be free to do as you wish. You will be the queen.”

Her eyes lower to the piece of jewelry. It’s thin and silvery with a subtle but beautiful black gemstone. She touches it. “What will be my cover?”

There’s a pause before Cardan answers, “Selina. You’re an ambassador of the court of moths, staying for the summer.”

“Did you just make that up? Or does she really exist?”

“I guess you will find out tonight.”

Jude sends him a glare. “This is serious, Cardan. If anyone discovers m—“

“No one will find out,” he cuts her off, exasperation in the husk of his voice. “Now hush, and dress up. The festivities await.”

He slips away and leaves her shaking her head. It’s typical of him to treat the matter as a joke. Jude doesn’t know why she thought it would be any different. Perhaps because he did seem changed, somehow, in very subtle and yet significant ways. But maybe that was all just part of a never-ending game.

And now it’s time to play her own part again.

There are many dresses to choose from in her closet. Some of them are hers, the ones she didn’t manage to pack and take with her to the mortal realm. Others are new, apparently a late wedding gift from Cardan. In the end, she chooses a dress with a black lace body, a long, semi-revealing gown. It goes with some sort of head decoration that looks like a dark, glittery flower and a see-through veil. In her opinion, it’s way too extravagant. But it's perfect for the Folk, and that is what she is aiming for. Jude has to fit in. Be _one of them_ for once.

Every once in a while she catches her own reflection in the mirror, startling anew at the stranger staring back at her no matter how many time it happens. Cardan certainly pulled off a good job. She wonders what else he can do now.

An hour later two servants scutter in to paint her face with dramatic khol liner and shimmery colors, and style her hair into a topknot, highlighting the pointed ears. When she looks at the finishes work, she gives a nod.

_Perfect._

By the time she enters the hall where the festivities are taking place, the party is in full swing. The folk is scattered all over the room, eating, drinking, and dancing. It’s both a flutter in her chest and a punch to the stomach to be back here. So overwhelming that Jude isn’t sure what to focus on first.

Before Dain and Madoc’s coup, she would be here with Taryn and Vivi. They would dance until Vivi would pull Taryn and her out. Then they would watch and discuss the High Court, giggle and gossip about the newest occurrences and scandals.

After Cardan’s crowning, she would just oversee the festivities while strategizing to solve the latest catastrophe under the new high King’s reign.

And now… now she is alone, a stranger, and even though she looks like fey, it won’t free her from the dancing spells or the magic food and wine.

Jude sighs, pushing past her own insecurities, and mingles with the crowd. A tall pixie with fiery red hair compliments her on her dress and offers her a sip of her wine. Another fae male wants to take her dancing. Jude plays nice and cheery but manages to politely decline their offers.

She’s longingly gazing at the buffet when a tall figure approaches her. Her eyes widen because it’s none other than Locke.

“I have not seen you here before,” he says with a charming grin — or at least, that’s what he wants it to look like. Jude knows better than that. “What’s your name?”

Jude offers him the politest smile she can bear and says, “Selina. I’m here as an ambassador from the court of moths.”

“Court of moths you say? What is it like over there?”

“It is a beautiful place with a lot of sunshine and lovely... woods. No match to Elfhame, however.” Silently, she pats herself on the shoulder for paying attention in class when they were discussing other courts.

“I see it also has beautiful females,” Locke says before offering her his outstretched hand. “May I take you for a dance?”

Her heart rate picks up as she tries to subtly glance around, keeping a lookout for her twin sister. Jude does not wish to see Taryn, but she does want for her to pick up her deceiving rat of a husband.

She’s starting to form an excuse when a heavy, familiar palm lands on her back and she hears Cardan say, “Go bother someone other than my ambassadors, dear friend.”

Locke huffs out a laugh but still backs off. Cardan is the High King, after all. “But they are the most fun.”

“There a dozen other fun folks here. Your wife, for instance.”

“Yes, my king.” Locke bows, albeit somewhat mockingly, and disappears back into the crowd.

Jude turns to Cardan with a scowl. “I hate him.”

“That seems to be the case with most of your relationships,” he retorts.

“Well, it has its reasons.”

All he offers in return is the slight twitch of his mouth as he smirks at her. The amusement is so genuine for a moment that she breaks the eye contact, crossing her arms. “That was close. He asked me to dance.”

“It is what Locke does with beautiful females.”

Jude scoffs.

“You are,” Cardan says, clearing his throat and vaguely waving a hand over her, “uh, pleasant to look at.”

She shakes her head, refusing to meet his gaze. “This isn’t even me. It’s some white-haired fae girl.”

"I don't see the glamoured version. I see the real you.”

Jude finally looks at him, and he holds her gaze, somehow timid and earnest and cruel all at the same time. He can’t lie, so he must be speaking the truth.

Cardan thinks she’s beautiful.

 _That’s nothing,_ she tells herself. _Appearances are nothing._

 _Play the game_ , a voice whispers in her mind. The same voice that came up with the plan to make him king, the same one who didn’t let her back down until she had her sword through Balekin. A powerful, but wicked voice.

Cocking her head, she starts, “And what —”

“Here you are. I already assumed you were drunk in a ditch, my king.”

Cardan stiffens. So does Jude. Because the terrifyingly beautiful girl that just snuggled her way into his personal space is Nicasia. “And you are with company,” Nicasia continues, shooting a sharp smile at Jude — or Selina. “Having fun?”

“Have you ever seen me not having fun?” Cardan recovers after a brief moment of tension, going to back to the usual smirk on his lips and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Jude watches Nicasia tap her fingers against his back and reciprocate his expression with an equally lethal laugh, the gesture so familiar that it makes Jude want to look away, leave this room and hit something. Or watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine with a bottle of wine and tub of ice cream.

“Yes, quite a few times lately, actually.”

Instead of reacting to that statement, Cardan asks, “Is there something you want, Nicasia, love?”

Jude’s eye twitches involuntarily.

“Only your attention,” Nicasia says, “and to meet our new ambassadors from the moths, I hear? I was not aware we would have one here.”

“If you had listened to me more carefully, you would have been.”

Jude decides it’s her cue to introduce herself. “I’m Selina.”

“Nicasia. Ambassador of the sea.”

“So I’ve heard.”

They do not shake hands but give each other short bows and two crooked smiles. It’s astonishing that Nicasia feels this threatened by a mere ambassador who has yet to speak another few words. At least, Jude has a reason to dislike her. This girl along with her family held her captive and tortured her for three months.

“If you excuse us,” Cardan looks at Nicasia, “I want to ask our ambassadors for a dance.” Now he throws a glance to Jude. “Will you?”

Actually, dancing with Cardan — the High King — was not on her to do list for this night, but if it will take her away from Nicasia, there’s nothing to do but say yes.

Jude accepts his hand and lets him lead her to the crowd where the other folk is dancing. They make way for them, some of them bowing their heads, others stopping to smile and pat the King. Out of the corner of her eye, Jude thinks she spots Locke with a very familiar brunette, but Cardan pulls her forward before she can confirm that it is her sister.

She rests her hands in his shoulder and lets out a sigh. “Why couldn’t you just give me the identity of some lower court fae? It would have raised way less suspicion.”

“Because the king does not just dance with some lower court fae.”

“Really? I do recall you doing all kinds of things with everyone, regardless of their status.”

His mouth lowers to her ear so that she feels his breath tickle her when he speaks. “In bed, yes. But,” he inches back again to look at her and quip a brow, “this cover is not for me to take you to bed, but to for you to attend this ball, is it not?”

Jude rolls her eyes and purposefully steps on his toe after he spins her around. Even after all this time, he's still a pig.

They dance like that for a while. Bodies close, music blaring, making her blood spin with the rhythm and her head loose. However, something is nagging at her, and eventually, she spits it out.

“So,” she says, “you and Nicasia.”

Cardan lifts his right brow.

Apparently, he wants it to spell out for him, to say these dreadful words. Nicasia and him — are they back together or — no, she refuses to. If he doesn't say anything, Jude won’t either.

“Nicasia has been very helpful,” Cardan says finally, his thumb making a stroking motion against the lace on her skin. “She has been a great help in communicating with Orlagh and her army.”

 _She tortured me_ , her mind screams. _If she had her way, I would be probably dead by now._

“Helpful,” Jude repeats in a low murmur.

“Nicasia may not be the most kindred soul, but she does know her way around the court.”

_Unlike you, Jude._

She doesn’t know if it’s something that Cardan doesn’t say or if it’s her own voice of insecurity, but it lands right there in her head, and she has to swallow to keep her feet moving.

“Good,” she gets out after another moment.

“You look pale.”

Her brows tug into a scowl. “I look exactly as you made me be,” she snaps. “Now do you want to dance all night or do I get to leave, too?” The shame that she cannot stop dancing on her own only adds to the list of things weighing on her.

Cardan gives a nod before he stops their flow and pulls them out of the dancing crowd. Jude would think he’s as unfazed as he always seems to be, if not for the way the muscles in his hand tensed against her own skin as she follows. Though, once he turns and releases her, the strain is gone.

“I have arranged a special buffet for the human servants.” He looks at her pointedly. “It is safe to eat.”

“How generous of you to care so much about your mortal slaves.”

“They are not slaves. Not anymore.”

Jude lets out an incredulous scoff. “So, they’re here voluntarily? Yes, of course.”

“You are human and no slave —“

“And you have given me enough shit for it.“

“— and so are they. They earn their fair share for their work here,” Cardan continues. “You can ask them.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, amazing!”

“Splendid!”

Jude throws him a glare and spins around to rush off to the buffet where she angrily throws a few baked potatoes and fish on her plate. The revel around her continues; the folk unaware of her mood and sudden anger. To her utter dismay, Nicasia approaches Cardan as soon as he is free and Jude watches them disappear somewhere in the royal quarters. Her appetite vanishes.

After dumping her food in a bin, she tries to focus on something other than Cardan and Nicasia and whatever they might be doing at the moment. A memory and an idea both flash through her head.

Brown braids and a heart-shaped face. Her sister. If Taryn is truly here, perhaps Jude could try to get something out of her, something that could help them prepare for Madoc’s newest attack.

As she looks for the crowd, she spots not Taryn, but a boy with golden curls and curious eyes carrying a silver tray. A human boy. Before Jude changes her mind, she follows him into the servant kitchen until they are alone.

“You,” she says.

He turns around, and his eyes widen once he sees her. “Yes, miss?” he stutters out.

“What’s your name?”

“Isaac.”

Jude nods. “Isaac. Speak the truth. Why are you here?”

“At the festivities you mean, miss?”

“No, in Elfhame. In this palace. How did you get here?”

The last time she spoke to a mortal servant — and failed to save or protect them — the girl was confused, and half drugged because of the glamour. It will be easy to notice if Isaac is, too.

However, to her surprise, a smile sneaks its way up his mouth. “I asked the king for work.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, there’s not much a mere mortal can do here that the Folk can’t do better, so I figured they could always use someone for service. It took some time until I got the job, but here I am.”

Jude’s brow furrow as she regards him. “So you would rather serve entitled fae than live a better life in the mortal world?”

“It’s not forever,” Isaac replies with a shrug, “but for now the job is worth the experience of the faerie court, miss. Your kind is…very interesting.”

She supposes she has no place to tell him what a load of bullcrap that is since she, too, is a human charmed by the addictive nightmare of the court. So Jude tells him to seek her out in case he ever encounters problems and leaves him to his duties, as she continues her search for her sister.

It’s fifteen minutes later outside in the garden when she finally sees the all too familiar face of Taryn, sitting on a bench, all alone.

At first, Jude feels terrible for her. A palace full of creatures, and Taryn is on her own, her no good of a husband nowhere to be seen. Then Jude reminds herself of the last few months in which she felt exactly like that and the sympathy fades into indifference and a plan.

Straightening her shoulders and putting on a fake, placid smile, she strolls out before dramatically tripping over her feet and letting out a laugh that’s supposed to sound tipsy.

Just like expected Taryn jumps up to steady her. “Are you alright?”

“Oh my,” Jude giggles, “I think I have had too much of that wine.”

Taryn offers her a timid smile, though she says nothing. So Jude makes the first step, and says, “My name is Selina.”

“Taryn Duarte.”

Jude efficiently manages to get the conversation going, coaxing out details like her Taryn’s marriage to the revel maker, her affiliation with Madoc and other things a stranger wouldn’t know, but she was already well aware of. It’s actually quite sad how much Taryn is willing to give up, like Jude — Selina is the first person who ever asked her. As much as her sister likes to pretend to fit in, it seems like it’s just a facade. The sad truth is that she’s just as alone as Jude.

They talk for almost an hour. Jude is careful not to ask too many specific questions in order not to raise any suspicion. However, she lets Taryn think that Selina is a potential friend of hers and not entirely content with the young and feckless king.

Later, when the revel ends as the dawn breaks across the sky and the folk go home, Jude pads down the hallway to her chambers with a satisfied smile on her face. Passing the King’s personal kitchen, she notices a figure there — Cardan, of course.

He’s sitting at the table, eyes closed, but the thing most bizarre about it are the freaking snowflakes falling down all around him.

Jude takes a step into the room, staring as the flakes fall and fall and fall. It’s all Cardan’s doing. And It’s both beautiful and frightening to see such powers come from someone who likes to drink ten gallons of wine a night.

“Is there something on your mind, dear Jude?” he asks all of a sudden, eyes still squeezed shut. When all she does is stare at him in surprise, Cardan opens his eyes and shrugs. “What? It’s obvious when somebody stares at you.”

Well, there goes all her training to be a spy. She can’t even sneak up on Cardan.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she finally speaks. “I talked to a servant. You were telling the truth.”

His brows rise in silent surprise as if he’s proud of her for this admission. Cardan’s right, it does take a great deal of her pride to say these words. But Jude feels giddy with excitement of all the ways she can trick her sister into revealing Madoc’s plans, and then there’s a tiny dab of guilt for having been so harsh to Cardan earlier.

Which is hilarious to think about because it’s Cardan. She hates him. She _wants_ to hate him, but there’s a treacherous piece in her heart that does the opposite of hating him and it’s ruining her life.

With a sigh, she takes another step forward, holding his gaze. “What exactly am I here for, Cardan?”

He frowns. “I told you.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be your secret weapon,” she air quotes, “but I’m here, and it looks like you’ve got Elfhame under control. Had it under control for months with the court of shadows, and your advisors, and Nicasia —“ She stops herself before her voice gets emotional or something as terrible as that. After a moment of recollection, she says, “Sure, I know Madoc well, but I’m most certain you don’t actually require my help.”

Cardan shakes his head. “It is still the truth. You know that.”

Jude scoffs. Right, he cannot lie, so it must be the truth. “Lying and leaving out parts of the truth are almost the same. So tell me. The entire thing. What else is there?”

“Fine,” he suddenly snaps and gets up from his seat, striding forward. “You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

His jaw works and clicks before a long breath leaves his lungs, and he says, “I missed you.” Jude blinks. “The entire time you weren’t here, I wanted you back. And I had known I would, that’s why I made sure you could pardon yourself. Why I married you.”

“You _missed_ me?”

Did he miss the tension between them, the games? Maybe he missed not having to do anything but play the king and drink. Or perhaps he wanted someone he could toy with again, indulge with when he’s bored and torment when he feels like it. Anything, but that Cardan might have just missed her because that cannot be —

“Yes,” Cardan says and averts his gaze, “I know. It’s humiliating.”

Jude shakes her head, more and more questions arising. “But why — why did you banish me then? I know you told me it was because of Orlagh, but we both know that’s not the whole truth again. If you felt… like that — I don’t understa—”

“Because!" The emotion in his voice surprises her. "Because Orlagh had you under the sea for three months and if it had not been for a great deal of negotiation and begging, it might have been more than that. Or worse, she could have killed you, Jude. You might fight better than me, and have more experience in killing, but you are still just human.” Just when she thinks he has blown any of her expectations away, he adds, “And it was safer for you in your world. So much safer than Elfhame.”

“What do you care if I live or die?”

At this point, it’s not her own doubts but some sort of provocation mechanism speaking out of her.

Cardan huffs, a gesture that seems foreign on him before taking another step towards her. “You are a cruel creature, Jude Duarte.”

“I learned from the best.”

“You really do want me to say it.”

“Perhaps.”

“I —” Another step “— have —” Now he’s in her personal space, staring her down “— some incredibly difficult feelings for you inside of me, and it is driving me mad. It makes me _stupid_. It makes me someone I promised myself never to be again. And yet I cannot get enough of it.” A beat, then. “Enough of you.”

Jude swallows.

_Break his heart before he breaks yours again._

_Leave before you want to stay forever._

“I —” _hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much_. But the words die on her lips. She's not fey, she  _can_ lie, but she simply can't get the words out. “I want to —” Again, nothing but a broken whimper comes out. The feeling of being powerless overcomes her which makes her want to scream.

“You hate me,” Cardan says for her, and his hand comes up to touch her cheek. Her eyes fall closed. “I know.” There’s an unusual warmth in his voice that shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t sound so gentle saying it.

Perhaps that’s why she shakes her head. “I don’t.”

Silence.

Jude opens her eyes, and he is staring at her, solemn and longingly.

“I missed you, too,” she says then. It feels like her heart breaks all over again like the day on the beach but this there’s a certain relief in it. Jude never told a soul. How do you tell someone that you miss the person that broke you? “I missed you, and I hated you because even if you did it for my safety, you never took the time to ask me what I wanted,” she whispers with tears of anger and confusion dwelling up in her eyes.

“I know.”

“I still want to stab you for what you did,” Jude continues, “but I don’t hate you. _I can’t_.”

This is probably the most honest she ever was with Cardan, and the experience is both terrifying an exhilarating. A part of Jude will always doubt everyone in Fairie and what they tell her, will always be wary of how they might spin their words into beautifully worded lies. And this is Cardan... but it feels real. She wants it to be real.

Jude Duarte's feelings for the king of Elfhame are a contradiction on their very own.

"You want me," Cardan says then, his smile aloof on his lips, "but you hate yourself for it. I know how that feels."

"Was that how you felt when you bullied me for being a mortal?"

His smile grows. "No. Later, when you told me, I would be free of court and instead bound me to the throne."

And at this moment, Jude somehow understands. Both of them have betrayed and hurt each other, and yet there is something between them, something neither of them can no longer deny. Cardan felt powerless all his life, and now he's the most powerful creature in Elfhame. Jude grew up as a mortal among the folk, but still, she managed to climb the ladder of rank and status to whatever she is now. In a strange, twisted way, they are equals. Mirrors of each other.

But this realization is so fragile, it's like walking on eggshells, so Jude shoves it down and murmurs, "And look how that turned out."

The hopeful spark that flickered in Cardan's eyes vanishes.

"I mean," she blurts, her heart twisting at the sight of him, "what could we ever be? "

"Everything," he says and lifts her chin with gentle fingers. "We could be everything you ever wished for. Rule over Elfhame together. Become the most powerful royalty known to men. All you have to do is allow it."

"You truly want that? With me?"

"Power is nothing to me if I can't share it with you."

"That's the nicest thing you ever said to me," Jude can't help but joke, a smile crawling up on her lips.

Cardan laughs back.

So she kisses him, and he kisses her back. There's something different about kissing him now, a taste of freedom and power on his lips instead of guilt. They take their time because for once they allow themselves those moments with each other. For a while, that's all there is. Them together.

Later, when Jude is yet again lying in his bed, his fingers trailing along her spine, she asks, "Cardan?"

"Yes?"

"If we want this to work, I need ..." Her voice gets stuck in her throat.

"What is it?"

Jude rolls over, so they're looking at each other, illuminated by the faint moonlight. "I need something for what you did first. For your betrayal."

His mouth quirks. "Do you want me to go on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?" Cardan leans towards her and places a tender kiss on her throat so that she can feel his lips moving against her skin when he murmurs, "Would that make you feel better, dear Jude? Me on my knees?"

"No," she says with a burst of laughter, "I will keep that in mind, but no. I want something else."

"Anything."

"I want you to spend a month in the mortal realm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i will make up for the super long wait each time with the next chapter aka the chapter where high king of fairie cardan greenbriar spend a whole ass month in the mortal realm. it will be worth it <3

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this entire thing is based on [this](https://twitter.com/wickdcardan/status/1085397928691335170) theory that i saw on twitter and immediately wanted to write. Initially it was supposed to be another one shot but, uhhhhh, i promised this fic to a little hoe that can't handle angst so i guess i have to actually resolve this mess!!! Let me know what you think?? 
> 
> or find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/clarkeagriffin) and [tumblr](iseeyoou.tumblr.com)!
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